Dear Father, We Dream
by Scooter Kitty
Summary: Sequel to Extremities. Roslin and Adama have an unusual heart to heart.


3/27/05

DEAR FATHER, WE DREAM

sequel to Extremities

The Galactica had just emerged from her desperate jump to safety. They had left Kobol behind. The home of the Gods was behind them. Earth lay ahead of them. But Laura was so tired. She couldn't remember when she had last felt so completely, physically exhausted. She needed to lie down for a while and rest, just for a little while...

Abruptly her attention was drawn by a flash of incongruous color. Turning her head, she briefly caught a glimpse of blue, white and black. Turning even further to follow the movement, she realized that it was a butterfly, a large, beautiful creature with bright, iridescent blue and white wings, with black veining. The distinctive, long, black 'tails' on the lower wing lobes identified it as a Gemini Blue Swallow-Tail. Laura had always had a fascination for butterflies and had read everything she could find about them as a girl. It came to her with a sudden jolt that the Gemini Blue Swallow-Tail had been extinct for nearly 100 years.

She continued to watch the brilliant insect as it flitted lazily about the CIC. Everyone else seemed to be oblivious to it, but Laura couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. Its flight was erratic and random, like a scrap of brightly colored paper drifting on a non-existent breeze, and yet there was a kind of willful grace to this fragile creature's desire to dance on the air currents, to spend its brief life in complete abandon, free of all cares, worries, and responsibilities...

"Madam President, are you alright?"

She was aware of Captain Apollo speaking to her, but it was as if she was hearing him from some great distance. She turned to look at him. She saw the concern on his handsome face and knew that she should reassure him. And yet, she couldn't seem to summon the will or even the desire. She saw him step closer and place a hand on her shoulder, but she felt no weight from the hand. It was as if it was not there at all. She felt nothing.

"Madam President?"

The concern in his voice was growing more insistent, but Laura found she was, strangely, still not moved by it. Her attention was again distracted by movement from the corner of her eye and she turned to see another winged insect, this one a muted orange and black Tiger Moth. Turning around, she found that the large room was now filled with fluttering, flitting insects.

There was also a young man standing behind her. He was tall and thin, dressed in long, loose, black robes. His long, unkempt, black hair hung to his shoulders. An entire swarm of butterflies fluttered about him, like a living, multi-colored halo. They clung to his hair and robes. He raised one pale, long-fingered hand and held it out to Laura. He gave her a slight smile, although his large, dark eyes remained forever sad.

She knew him. It had been years since she had read The Scriptures, but she still knew him... Thanatos, Lord Death.

"Madam President!"

Turning back to Apollo, she saw him kneeling on the deck, her own limp body cradled in his arms. Distantly, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man's obvious anguish, but nothing more. Sensing that the black robed figure was still waiting behind her, she turned back to Thanatos.

The Dark Lord turned and began walking out of CIC. Laura trailed dutifully behind him. As she stepped over the raised threshold of the hatch, instead of finding the usual passageway, she found herself standing in an open meadow. There was tall, lush grass beneath her feet and a flawless, sunless, blue sky overhead. They were no sounds of animal or insect life at all, only the sound of a light breeze ruffling the long grass.

Laura turned to ask Thanatos where they were, but found that the Lord was gone. She was alone in the meadow and the hatchway through which she had entered was gone as well. She was surrounded by an endless sea of green grass and empty blue sky. With a sigh, she picked a direction at random and began walking.

She didn't know how long she had walked. As soon as she had stepped into this strange, empty landscape, her weariness had left her. As the scenery never seemed to change, she had no landmarks to use as reference points to judge any distances. There was no sun in the sky to offer a reference for time. So, she walked, because she had nothing else to do.

Several hours later, at least, she supposed it must have been hours later, she found that she felt no hunger or thirst or fatigue. The unvarying landscape seemed to have lulled her into a kind of stupor. She had become so accustomed to its regularity that when there finally was something different, she had to pause and rub her eyes, to make sure that she wasn't seeing things... No, it was real. There was a dark figure standing some distance off from her.

Her chest tightened for a moment. Was it Thanatos? Had he returned to lead her down to the Underworld? Taking a deep, slightly shaky breath, she continued toward the dark figure. As she drew closer, she realized that she knew this figure as well and it was not Thanatos.

"Commander Adama," she called softly.

He turned to face her with some surprise. "Madam President, what are you doing here... wherever here is?"

"I'm not sure where we are," she said with a slight smile. "But I think it might be the Elysian Fields."

"Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking... I know why I'm here, but why are you? What have I missed?"

As she drew up beside him, she slid one of her arms around his. "Let's walk," she said.

They continued on at a slow, leisurely pace. They had no reason to hurry, they had no where to go. But the movement was somehow satisfying and, though neither said so, both felt comforted by the other's presence. At least they wouldn't have to go through... whatever this was, alone.

"If this is the Elysian Fields, shouldn't there be others around, my wife, my son?" Adama asked at length. "Isn't that what The Scriptures promise us, that if we lead righteous lives, we will be reunited with our loved ones in the Afterlife? But you're the first person I've seen."

"Yes. I haven't seen anyone else either. Perhaps this isn't the Elysian Fields after all. Perhaps it's just a stopping point before we get there... The last thing I knew, you were still alive in sick bay. You were comatose and critical, but still alive..."

"And you...?"

"Me? Well, I've been dying for quite a while now."

He stopped abruptly and stared at her, his eyes narrowed penetratingly.

"I have cancer," she said softly. There was no point in hiding the truth from him now. Why else would she be here, if there was nothing wrong with her? "It's terminal. Your doctor gave me about six months... maybe he estimated wrong..."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"And give you any more leverage over me? I don't think so," she said with a smile, resuming her walk.

Adama fell into step with her again and they walked in silence for a while.

"The Pythian Prophecy, that's how you managed to turn Starbuck against me," the commander said, after a time.

Now, it was Laura who stopped and stared. "I didn't turn her against you. You were the one who told the whole crew that you knew where Earth was. You dug that hole all by yourself. Now, I'll admit that I used Lt. Thrace's beliefs to manipulate her. I'm not proud of it, but you left me no choice. You wouldn't even listen to me about going back for the Arrow of Apollo."

"Because it was a waste of time. There is no Earth."

"But there is. We proved it. Lt. Thrace did bring back the Arrow of Apollo and it did allow us to find the way to Earth. We have a star chart. It's all true."

He turned away from her, his body suddenly rigid.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe?" she asked.

"I did believe, once. When I was a child, my family went to temple regularly. But that belief died along with my youngest son. If I were to believe in the Gods, then I also have to accept that They did nothing to prevent my son from dying young, from my wife leaving me, or my only surviving son from hating me. And that They did nothing to stop the Cylons from wiping out billions of people, as well as our entire civilization. I'm sorry, but I cannot accept any god that could allow any of those things to happen."

She was silent for a long time. "I can't claim to understand the will of the Gods, but there is one thing I do know; Captain Apollo does not hate you."

"Why do you insist on always calling him that? You never use his real name," Adama asked with some irritation.

Though he still had his back to her, she found herself smiling. "I don't know... the name suits him, but I'll stop if it bothers you."

"No, your relationship with Lee is none of my business," he said with a vague, resigned wave of his hand.

"Relationship? I assure you, Commander, my 'relationship' with your son is purely as a president and her advisor."

"Really? Tell me something," Adama said, turning to face her again, "does Lee know about your cancer?"

"Yes."

"Do all of your advisors know about it?"

"...No."

He nodded, but said nothing.

"Are you implying that there's something going on between myself and your son?" she asked quietly.

He sighed heavily. "I don't know what I'm implying. He certainly seems to value your opinion more than mine."

"Perhaps that's because I value his opinion."

"Are you saying that I don't? I value Lee's opinion."

"Then why is it that every time there's a crisis, you seek out Lt. Thrace?"

"Starbuck is the best pilot we've got."

"Yes, I don't deny that, but in what way do her piloting skills enable her to deal with hostage situations, or interrogate prisoners, or plan missions?"

"Starbuck has a unique way of looking at things. She thinks outside the box."

"Unique? She's undisciplined and insubordinate, two very dangerous qualities under our present circumstances. And as I so clearly proved to you, these exact qualities also make her easily manipulated. And as for 'thinking outside the box', may I remind you that Capt. Apollo saved my life and the lives of everyone on board Colonial One when he used the Galactica's electromagnetic pulse generator to fake our deaths to the Cylons and disable their warhead. What was that, if not 'thinking outside the box'?"

"Lee is very young and inexperienced. He's new to the position of CAG..."

"I see, so Lt. Thrace is older than Capt. Apollo?"

"...No."

"Oh, but she's been through all of these situations before? She's been through a war before?"

"...No."

"So, let me get this straight... She's no older, nor any more experienced than Apollo. Plus, she's of a lower rank and has less formal education... and yet, she's the one you turn to. And you wonder why I would think that you don't value Apollo's opinions."

The commander was silent, staring down at the ground.

"There's something else I want to verify. I had Captain Apollo explain to me the proper chains of command on a Battlestar. I was a little confused and wanted to make sure that I got everything straight. Now, he explained to me that anything and everything that dealt with the pilots and/or their spacecraft, fell under the responsibilities of the CAG. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Adama said quietly.

"So, in other words, you have absolutely no business even speaking to a pilot, let alone giving them direct orders, without first going through the CAG, correct?"

"... Under normal circumstances, yes, but these are hardly normal circumstances..."

"I understand that, Commander, truly, I do. But I also understand that you have made it abundantly clear that you do not trust your son to lead or make difficult decisions."

"I had him lead the mission against the Cylon tyllium refinery."

"True, except that, as CAG, it's his job to lead missions. He shouldn't require your permission. And we both know damn well that the only reason you even allowed him to do that was because Lt. Thrace was injured. If you don't trust him, how do you expect those under his command to?"

"I do trust Lee."

"Really? I find that very hard to believe considering your every action screams to the contrary."

"I do trust Lee," Adama repeated emphatically. "It's just that I've been in the military long enough to know how unforgiving it can be. Even the slightest mistake can quickly become so much more..."

"Yes," she agreed quietly. "And you've already had one son learn that lesson the hard way. But you're not doing Apollo any favors by shielding him from command. You're only hurting him. You have to let him succeed or fail on his own merits. If you don't, eventually, he will truly hate you."

Adama turned away and started walking again, deep in thought. Laura trailed along behind him, wondering if she had gone too far. Ah, well, she thought with a mental shrug, if we really are both dead, then my little speech was entirely too little, too late.

After a long silence, the commander glanced over at her. "So, the Pythian Prophecy..." he said musingly, returning to the earlier part of their discussion.

"Yes...?"

" 'And the Lords anointed a leader to guide the caravan of the Heavens to their new homeland.' A leader who suffered from a wasting disease... So, you are this leader?"

"So it would seem."

"Then the Gods have spoken to you?"

"Not in words, no. I'm not schizophrenic, if that's what you're asking. But I have had dreams and... visions..."

"Of serpents numbering two and ten?"

"Yes."

He stopped and turned to face her fully. He stood gazing deeply into her eyes, measuring her with his own. "You're serious, aren't you? You truly believe this?"

"Yes."

"That's why you were so insistent about the Arrow of Apollo..."

"Yes."

"And you went down to Kobol and found the way to Earth?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever heard of Thomas Horner?"

"No."

"He was a scholar of The Scriptures and he came up with a controversial theory that the Lords of Kobol weren't gods at all, but aliens who simply had a much more advanced culture than ours."

"Oh, yes... I've heard that theory... and who knows, perhaps there is some truth to it, but really, what is a god? It's a higher being. If these aliens were so much more advanced than us, doesn't that, by definition, make them gods, to us at least?"

He smiled. "I never thought of it like that. But doesn't the concept of godhood also generally involve creation? If they were aliens, then they didn't create us."

"No, but The Scriptures do not attribute our creation to Apollo, Athena, or even the mighty Zeus. They simply took over from older gods, Cronus, Rhea, Hyperion. And They, in turn, took over from even older Gods... the Protogonoi, the First Born, who made up the very fabric of the universe. Perhaps it was They who actually created us and these aliens simply took up their mantles. And who knows? Maybe They were all aliens and we are simply their descendents. After all, The Scriptures do tell us that occasionally the Gods took Human lovers."

With that mysterious, sphinx-like half-smile of hers, she started walking again. Adama stood watching her back for a moment, wondering if she knew more than she was telling, or was she simply speculating, as he had been?

"So, if you are the prophet... are we dead?" He asked her at last.

She stopped and turned back to him, a thoughtful look on her face. "No, I don't think so, not yet. But I think we're close."

He nodded. "So, what do we do about that? I don't know about you, but I still have things to do. And apparently, I owe my son an apology."

"Yes, you do," she agreed with a smile. She held a hand out to him. "Walk with me?"

"And all this walking is going to accomplish... what?" he asked, as he joined her and linked her arm through his. They resumed their leisurely, companionable pace.

"I don't know that it accomplishes anything, but standing still too long just seems too much like giving up. Besides, it's such a lovely day. It would be a shame to waste it."

* * *

Sick Bay was quiet. It was well into the night shift and most of the crews on the Battlestar were in their racks, sleeping. That was where Kara was supposed to be, but sleep had eluded her. Her knee was aching from her unexpected exercise. But it was a dull ache that spoke of too much exertion, too soon, as opposed to anything more serious. Still, she was hoping that someone in sick bay could give her some minor pain killer that would allow her to get some sleep.

As she didn't see any medical technicians or corpsmen around at the moment, she headed over to look in on the Old Man. They had placed the president in a bed beside his, so she could check on Roslin at the same time. As she approached the two beds, she found that she was not the only one who hadn't been able to sleep earlier.

Lee sat in a chair between the two beds, sound asleep. He had slouched down low in the chair and his head was propped against the padded back. The book he had been reading was still open in his lap. She stood for a moment, watching him sleep and listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. She debated whether she should wake him and try to get him to go to bed. But she knew him, he would probably find some duty that needed to be performed before that and he wouldn't get to bed for hours. If she left him here, he would probably wake up stiff and sore, but at least he would be rested.

Making up her mind, Kara stepped closer and carefully slid the book out from under his slack hands. She glanced at the cover. 'The Art of War' by Gen. Dao Ling. Yeah, that would put me to sleep too, she thought with a mental grimace. Gods forbid that Lee Adama would read anything light and fictional. She opened the book to look at the inside cover. There was a plate glued inside which read, 'from the library of William Adama.' Just as she'd suspected, like father, like son, although, she knew that Adama at least also enjoyed reading cheesy mysteries.

She laid the book on a small bedside table and picked up a blanket which was folded at the foot of the commander's bed. Shaking out the folds, she spread the blanket over Lee's sleeping form, trying very hard not to notice when her fingers 'accidentally' brushed against the warm skin of his bared shoulders. Stepping back, she resolutely put Lee out of her mind and turned her attention to the two unconscious leaders.

Glancing around, she saw that the large room was still fairly deserted. No one was paying the slightest attention to her. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer..."

* * *

They walked for what seemed like miles. The light in the sky never changed, but for all they knew several days could have passed. Time seemed to be suspended in this strange, empty place. They were silent now, but it was a comfortable, easy silence. For the first time, Adama felt like he understood this enigmatic woman, or at least, that he was beginning to, and he found that he was actually looking forward to the idea of helping her find Earth.

His thoughts were abruptly distracted by Laura's sudden gasp. "Look!" she said softly, pointing toward the grass ahead of them.

Looking in the direction she indicated, he saw a large blue and white butterfly resting on one tall, thick stalk of grass. It fanned its iridescent wings lazily a few times, before allowing the light breeze to draw it into the air.

"A Gemini Blue Swallow-Tail," Adama said, watching the insect flutter on ahead. "I thought they were long extinct."

"They are," Laura said. "Very good, you must be a fellow lepidopterist."

"Well, I liked bugs in general when I was a boy and I actually preferred moths to butterflies."

"Well, then there's one for you, too," she said, pointing to another airborne insect.

"Ah, yes, the Tiger Moth, one of my favorites. Did you know that they are one of the only predatory moths? They feed on gnats."

"No, I did not know that," Laura said, impressed.

"You know, after I was shot the first time, and before the second time, it was as if time stood still for a moment and I swear that I saw a Tiger Moth, just for a second... It's strange, the things your mind conjures up in moments like that..."

"Did you also see a young man dressed in black?"

"No, why?"

"Nothing... come on, let's follow them."

With no better ideas, Adama agreed to this suggestion and they followed along behind the fluttering insects, which always seemed to stay within their sight. As they walked, they light, refreshing breeze, which seemed to be ever-present, gradually began to pick up. The soft susurration of the grass grew to a more noticeable level as the wind increased. Interspersed through this rustling, Laura thought she heard the sound of a whispered voice.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"No, what was it?"

"It sounded like someone whispering, but too softly to make out any words."

He didn't question her about this. While he wasn't sure he was ready to accept the idea that she was some kind of mythical leader from prophecy, he would acknowledge that she was more in tune with spiritual matters than he was. He was aware that the wind was continuing to pick up. Their small winged guides were no where to be seen, probably blown away or hunkered down deeper into the tall, sheltering grass. A distinct feeling of uneasy anticipation was creeping into his consciousness.

"What's happening?" he asked quietly, glancing around.

"I don't know, but I'm feeling a little strange, lightheaded," she said, pressing a hand to her temple and swaying slightly.

Adama put a hand on her arm to steady her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I think so." She had a strange, far away look in her eyes. Abruptly, she looked up at him, her eyes now sharply focused on him. She clutched his hand tightly in hers. "Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand," she ordered, her voice urgent.

He never got the chance to respond as she suddenly stumbled as if the ground had tilted. He had felt nothing, but he slid his arm around her shoulder to brace her. As he pressed her against his side, he felt it too. The ground was moving under their feet. It was heaving and shifting as if from an earthquake. Adama clung even tighter to Laura.

When the ground gave a particularly violent lurch, the commander felt Laura jerked off her feet. She was pulled from his arms as she fell, but remembering her words, he maintained his grip on her hand. She seemed to be falling an impossibly long way, as if the ground beneath her was much further down than the ground beneath him. He felt himself being tugged off balance, but he still held tight. The ground gave another heave and he felt himself falling...

* * *

As blackness slowly receded to gray, William Adama became aware of an odd warmth and a slight weight centering in the palm of his right hand. With some effort, he forced his heavy eyelids open. Blurry blobs of color swam before his eyes for several moments before his eyes reluctantly focused and he found himself looking into the warm brown eyes and the smiling face of Laura Roslin.

"Welcome back," she said softly.

Glancing around slightly, he realized that he was lying in a bed in sick bay and Laura was seated on the edge of his bed. Memories of the reason for his present state rose sluggishly in his mind. He had been shot, by one of his own people. Pushing those disturbing images from his thoughts, to be processed later, he instead tried to focus on the rapidly fading dream that had preceded his waking.

"Why do I have the feeling that you saved my life?" he asked weakly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she responded, with her usual enigmatic smile.

"Mmmhmm," he murmured, unconvinced.

Noting for the first time that she was dressed in her dark suit, it occurred to him that there was something unusual about this. Something drifted into his thoughts about cancer and deathly illness.

Gesturing to her clothes, he said, "Weren't you...?"

"It was just a minor setback," she said dismissively. "I was released two days ago. You, on the other hand, have been taking your time. You've been hovering on the edge of waking for the past 24 hours. We've been wondering when you were going to rejoin us."

"So, there's no change with your...?"

"No," she said quickly. "Everything's the same, no better, but no worse either." She gave him a tight smile and he squeezed the hand that was still in his.

She turned around and looked at something behind her which was beyond his line of sight. Turning back to him, she said, "You have some visitors. Are you up to it?"

"Sure," he whispered.

Turning and gesturing behind her, Adama was aware of two figures approaching either side of his bed. And then the anxious faces of Lee and Kara moved into his view. Laura stood and moved back so that Lee could take her place on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Dad, how're you feeling?" he asked.

"Oh, I've been better," Adama said sleepily.

* * *

They stood ranged in a semi-circle around the commander's hospital bed, looking like naughty schoolchildren called before the principal. Lee, Kara, Roslin, Tigh, Dee, and Gaeta all looked appropriately abashed and chastened as they stood at parade rest.

It had been nearly a week since he had first regained consciousness and he was feeling much stronger. He was sitting, propped up with several pillows, facing them. He had been briefed on the events that had transpired while he had been unconscious and had heard about the parts each of these people had played in those events. He had also listened to their explanations and justifications.

He gave a heavy sigh. There really wasn't anything he could do to them. They each represented a vital cog in the smooth running of this ship. He needed them doing their jobs, not sitting in the brig. And, though he hated to admit it, they had each justified their actions well. And, with the exception of Kara, they were all first time offenders.

"In light of our present circumstances and taking recent events into account, I'm going to overlook these transgressions... this time," he emphasized ominously. "You're all dismissed... Apollo, Starbuck, a moment more of your time, please."

He saw the two in question glance at each other momentarily as they shuffled uncomfortably to stand side by side at the foot of his bed. He waited until the others had left before addressing them.

"Now, I assume you have something more to say to me, Lieutenant?" he asked, giving Kara a piercing look.

"You lied to us, sir," she said stiffly, refusing to be cowed by his glare. "You told us you knew where Earth was and you didn't. You had no right to lie to us."

"Oh, cut the crap, Starbuck, you're mad because I lied to you. And I have every right to tell you and any other subordinate officer anything I see fit to tell you. I didn't lie to you about our objective, to find a new home. I didn't lie about our enemy or our chances of survival. I told you what you wanted to hear and I did it because I figured that false hope was better than no hope at all.

"Now, I'm sorry if my lie hurt you, but damn it, you had no right to jeopardize the safety of this fleet and every person in it, simply because I hurt your feelings! I have chosen to overlook a lot of the stunts you've pulled over the past two years, stunts that probably should have earned you a dishonorable discharge. I entrusted you with responsibilities you had not earned. I've put my career on the line for you. I think I deserve a little latitude from you as well.

"As I have already stated, you will not be held accountable for your latest transgressions, but let me make myself very clear, from this moment forward, if you step even one inch out of line, you will be back in the brig faster than you can blink. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," she whispered.

"Good... I trusted you, Starbuck, even after..." he stopped himself, unable to continue with that thought. "I'm afraid that trust is gone. You're going to have to start over and re-earn it... You're dismissed."

Kara came to attention, snapped off a smart salute, and turning on her heel, left sick bay. Lee watched her go a bit apprehensively, unsure of why his father had evidently wanted him to witness that dressing down. And if his father had been that harsh with Kara, what would the man say to him? Turning back to the bed, Lee saw the commander watching him speculatively. He took a deep breath and unconsciously squared his shoulders, as though bracing himself for an impact.

"I'm not going to yell at you," Adama said quietly.

"No? Why not? My crimes were just as serious as Starbuck's."

"No, Starbuck disobeyed me, because she was angry with me. You disobeyed my orders... And you had every right to. I was out of line. I was trying to punish the president because I knew she had asked Starbuck to go."

"I pulled a gun on Col. Tigh..."

"Well, I admit you shouldn't have done that, but I think we've all wanted to do that at one time or another."

When his father looked over and gave him a sly wink, Lee couldn't help but laugh. "I can't believe you're just going to let this go," he said.

"Well, I guess I'm partially to blame. I told you to listen to your instincts. I guess I should have been prepared to deal with the inevitability that they might not always tell you what I wanted you to hear... I'm sorry."

"For what?" Lee asked, looking at his father warily, as though suspecting some verbal entrapment.

"I haven't exactly made your job very easy, have I?"

The younger man shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his feet. "No, you haven't," he said frankly.

"I promise, in the future, I'll... try to work on that."

Lee smiled. "That would be appreciated."

* * *

The six-person state room was quiet as Kara entered. It was the middle of the day shift and everyone else was on duty. The only person present was Lee, sitting at the long table in the center of the room, working on paperwork. He didn't look up as she walked in.

She had only stopped in the room to grab something from her locker. She stopped by the table opposite Lee to watch him work for a minute. He still didn't look up. It had been over a week since they had jumped from Kobol and she and Lee had exchanged only a handful of words the entire time.

"Lee?"

He continued to work without responding.

"Lee," she repeated, a little louder this time.

He still didn't look up. Abruptly she realized why he was deliberately ignoring her. They were both still on duty. She gave a small sigh of exasperation and rolled her eyes.

"Capt. Adama, sir," she said.

At last, he looked up at her. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"How long are you going to keep doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked, his expression innocent.

She gave another frustrated sigh. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Lee was very tempted to say no. He knew perfectly well she was itching to tell him off. But she had asked him properly... "Permission granted," he said.

"How long are you going to keep punishing me, Lee?"

"I'm simply holding you to the exact same rules that everyone else has to deal with. I'd hardly call that punishment."

"Yeah, but I'm not everyone else. I thought I was your friend."

"Yeah, so did I, but it wasn't just my father's trust you lost when you ran away."

"I didn't run away," she protested.

"You flew off without permission, without an explanation...You just took off and left Dad and I to deal with the mess you left behind."

"Your father knew why I left."

"Did you actually even try to talk to him about it?"

"I gave him an opportunity to come clean with me. He chose not to."

"Did you tell him that you knew the truth? Did you give him a chance to explain himself?"

"No."

"Kara, you need to understand that your actions have consequences. And when you run away like that, it's other people who end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions."

"I know, I'm sorry, Lee," she whispered.

"That's not good enough."

"What do you want from me? Tell me what to do to make things right and I'll do it."

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't know that you can make things right this time."

THE END

Author's note: Okay, first off, let me just say that the stuff I wrote about the proper chain of command is all true. I'm not talking out my ass. On a real aircraft carrier, the CAG does not take orders from the captain of the carrier. Both of their orders come from the commander of the battle group, who is generally a rear admiral. For anyone wishing verification of this, please see The Naval Aviation Guide, 5th edition (pgs. 166-171), and/or Tom Clancy's Carrier: a Guided Tour of an Aircraft Carrier (pg. 217).

Now, yes, I understand that this is a made-up world, but since it is supposed to be based on an aircraft carrier, I, for one, would like to see something a little closer to reality. I am sick and tired of Adama sticking his nose into things that should be Lee's decisions and Lee's alone. Adama has no business giving direct orders to any pilot. If he has an assignment for one of them, those orders should come down through the CAG.

Okay, I'm done bitching. Sorry, that's just something that's been really bothering me about this show. Well, that and I think it's long overdue that both Adama and Lee put Starbuck in her place. I'm sorry, but that bitch is entirely out of line and has been the entire season.

Okay, now I'm done bitching, really.


End file.
